


A Christmas With A (Double Helix) Twist

by vinegardog



Category: Farscape
Genre: Christmas Presents, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:40:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21958279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinegardog/pseuds/vinegardog
Summary: John Crichton gives his wife a very special present for Christmas...
Relationships: John Crichton/Aeryn Sun
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	A Christmas With A (Double Helix) Twist

Written for SC117 - A Very Farscape Christmas hosted by Sponge

Setting: about 4 cycles after PKWs

Some spoilers for seasons 3 and 4.

Word count: circa 3100

Rating: PG to PG-13

No beta, so be kind and don’t expect too much!

Warning: I had to slightly alter what happened on the Royal Planet for this to work. I hope you don’t mind and just go along with it.

Happy Christmas/Holidays or whatever you celebrate, Scapers!

**A Christmas Present with A (Double Helix) Twist (PG - PG13)**

“Crichton, this plan of yours is the daftest you have concocted yet! And that is no small feat, you fahrbot Human!” Rygel groused in a whisper as John forced open a vent and pushed the diminutive Dominar through it. “This is greatly beneath my hallowed status as Dominar and you are going to get me killed!”

“Ryg, you promised you would help me. And in exchange, Aeryn and I will help you get back to Hyneria and get your rightful throne back - that’s what I call a quid pro quo, my man.” John said in a low tone of voice betraying a mix of exasperation, imploration and trepidation. He really didn’t want Rygel to get cold feet and renege on his promise, not now, not when they were so close to accomplishing what they had set out to do.

“Quid pro whatta?” Rygel’s muffled question was quickly cut off by John replacing the vent covering and by his urgent whispering through it:“You know what you have to do, Sparky. I’m gonna do my part,now go do yours. We rendezvous back at Moya’s pod in exactly an arn. And don’t come back empty handed, you hear me?”

Rygel only grunted in reply from inside the conduit but, to his relief, John heard his thronesled whirr away further into the belly of the Imperial Palace of the Royal Planet.

**_Back on Moya_ **

“Pilot?”Standing at the main console on Command Aeryn commed Pilot, who, unusually, did not immediately appear on the clamshell in reply to her hail. “Pilot, can you hear me?”

“Yes, Aeryn. I… I can hear you.” Pilot’s image finally appeared and his voice came through the comms tinged with hesitation and what, Aeryn felt, was a degree of uncommon reticence. “How can I be of assistance?”

“Where is John, Pilot? I have commed him several times and I have looked for him everywhere and he doesn’t seem to be on board any longer.” Aeryn was not yet alarmed. Her mate was and had always been unpredictable but, on the other hand, he rarely left Moya without telling her first, which made her uncomfortable.

Pilot said nothing in reply.

“Pilot, is John on Moya?” Aeryn clearly asked this time. A question that required an inescapable clear answer.

“Um, no. No, he isn’t.” Pilot finally admitted. “He and the Dominar left three arns ago to go to… er… “

“To go where?” Aeryn asked, alarm now creeping into her voice.

“Er… um… they asked me not to say…” Pilot attempted to evade answering, already knowing that it was a lost battle.

“Pilot,” Aeryn’s voice assumed the steely coldness of her Peacekeeper past “I want you to tell me where John and Rygel are. Now, please!”

Pilot, to his shame, crumbled like a cookie way sooner than he had imagined even in his worst predictions of how this conversation with Aeryn would go: “They have gone to… er... acquire your Crissmass present, Officer Sun. Commander Crichton didn’t want you to know, he wanted it to be a surprise and that’s why they left without telling you.” He blurted in a rush.

Aeryn sighed a deep sigh of relief. John and his Crissmass foibles. She had wanted to make him aware so many times down through the cycles of the fact that she didn’t want or need silly presents and that Crissmass really didn’t make any sense to her but he was so keen on preserving this Human tradition of his that she just hadn’t had the heart to be honest and tell him just how extremely annoying she found all of it. He missed Earth and its daft customs, she knew that, so, for his sake, she gritted her teeth cycle in, cycle out and pretended and acted like his presents - usually useless trinkets or skimpy garments he got her more for his own enjoyment than hers - delighted her and pleased her every time.

Besides, D’Argo, now almost four cycles old, was starting to really look forward to the once a cycle Crissmass celebrations and in particular to the gift receiving and, as Crissmass day approached, she did enjoy seeing his excitement build up and, just like it was the case with his father, she loved him too much to deny him that joy.

“Next time, Pilot, please do not make me ask twice.” She half-heartedly scolded the big creature who was so close to her heart. “You know how John has a special talent for getting himself into trouble when I am not around.”

Pilot nodded and meekly apologised before disappearing from the clam shell. As soon as the comms had been severed though, his eyes became troubled. He really should have told Aeryn about her present and where John and Rygel had gone to procure it. What they were doing was dangerous and if they got themselves arrested - or worse, killed - Aeryn would never forgive him and he would never forgive himself. Crichton and his plans! Why did he have to get them all into trouble all the time? The only reason why he had decided to go along with the Human and keep his secret was that, on this occasion, he really wanted with all of his heart for Crichton to be successful in his quest. The present he intended to get for Aeryn, if he managed to acquire it, would turn out to be a present for all of them on Moya.

Pilot did his best to push his remorse and doubts to the back of his mind and concentrated on bringing Moya stealthily as close to the Royal Planet as he could, just like Crichton had told him to do before he left.

_**Somewhere in the heating system on the Royal Planet** _

“Rygel, I need you. Rygel, you are my friend. Rygel, you are the only one who can help me with this. Rygel. Fluffy. Buckwheat. Rygel. Rygel. Rygel.” Rygel talked to himself, repeating what John had said to him a weeken earlier and mimicking and mocking sotto voce the beseeching tones the Human had employed to convince him to help. He sweated profusely as he proceeded with difficulty through the ventilation system in the heart of the Royal Planet. It was the cold planetary season and heated air flowed through the conduits and made him feel like discarding his velvety, heavy robes to enjoy blessed, cool nakedness. “You love Aeryn and you certainly love Little D, don’t you? So you gotta - you just gotta - help me” His mimicking of Crichton continued. He knew it was petty but it made him feel better and his own voice kept him company in the unfamiliar darkness.

Every so often he would come across some dimly-lit grates along the way and then he would stop and he would peer through them to try and see where in the palace he was. According to the blueprints that Crichton had acquired on a commerce planet after paying a fortune to a seedy and wholly disreputable Sebacean, who had claimed to have been a server at the Royal Palace before being dishonorably dismissed for theft, Rygel should be heading for ducts running right above the medical facilities. The same medical facilities where both Crichton and himself had witnessed the Human’s possible future spawn being brought to brief life during their last visit to the planet some six cycles ago now.

However, all he could see outside this particular grate for the moment was just an empty corridor. Rygel wiped sweat from his eyes, sighed and continued to whirr along hoping with all of his diminutive being that the blueprints were correct and that he was on the right track. Why? Why did he have to be so accommodating and pliant? Why could he not have said no to Crichton and leave it at that? Why did his nature just have to be so pure and amiable? If he were to be honest with himself though, Rygel knew exactly why, at least on this occasion, he had shown compliance with Crichton’s foolhardy plans: he truly loved little D’Argo - probably even more than he had ever loved any one of his innumerable and hardly memorable brood - and, although he would never admit it out loud, he also had grown unreasonably fond of both of his parents, daft as that might sound. He really was becoming potty and sentimental in his old age!

He finally reached what looked like the end of the conduit - just like the blueprints had shown he should if inside the right vent - and, carefully he looked through the final grate. Yes! This did indeed look like the medical facility he remembered. So, maybe, just maybe, Crichton’s plan would yield some positive results this time. Rygel smiled to himself then he gently and quietly settled the thronesled down and waited for the right time to spring into action, presuming of course that the Human had not been found out, arrested and executed already and that he would succeed in providing the necessary diversion as agreed.

_**Somewhere else in the Royal Palace** _

After sealing Rygel in the vent, John picked up the satchel at his feet and surreptitiously slipped into an empty side room. He took off his leather trousers, his black T and leather boots and donned instead the white toga-like clothes and sandals he also had acquired from the blueprints guy. He knew he looked ridiculous but this was the only way he was going to blend in for long enough to enact his diversion to enable Rygel to complete his well thought out plan (well thought out being what he would call it, others might vehemently disagree on the subject).

He was of course counting on the fact that he looked in every single way like a Sebacean and that the few people he might cross paths with would not remember the man who had married their Princess in a private ceremony a few cycles earlier.

He walked out and slowly made his way towards the busier, central part of the palace.

He met a few guards and servants along the way: they nodded politely towards him but nobody, to his relief, showed any suspicion or sign of recognition. John released the breath he had been unknowingly holding since arriving at the palace some 45 macrots earlier and let himself believe that this was all going to work out. Aeryn would receive the best of presents this Christmas. She was bound to love it and there was nothing that made him happier than making her happy. His wife never failed truly to appreciate and admire his Christmas gifts and he couldn’t believe just how much she had come wholeheartedly to love the Christmas celebrations. Every year she seemed to love them more and more. He truly was the luckiest man in the universe to have her as his wife and as the mother of his child.

This year, as well as the usual sexy lingerie - his go-to present to her for the last few Christmases - he planned to put under the tree something so special and unexpected that it was bound to go down through the ages as THE best present she had ever received.

With a small smile of self satisfaction on his lips, John nonchalantly slipped behind one of the big pillars that lined the main marbled walkway of the palace’s public promenade and expertly attached four powerful flashbang grenades to it. He then checked and counterchecked the remote activator before re-emerging and joining in with the crowd of palace dwellers going by on their daily business.

He reached a safe distance and flicked the activator’s lever.

Four well-timed bangs accompanied by blinding flashes of light echoed around the cavernous hall: people screamed, covered their ears and, blinded by the explosions, scattered around the place looking for cover. Alarms blared. Palace guards sprung into action searching for an invisible enemy. A calm, recorded voice sounded out of the many loudspeakers placed discreetly in the ceiling urging people to be calm and directing them to leave their activities and posts in an orderly manner to proceed to safe, meeting points located in various parts of the building. Standard safety procedures in case of an enemy attack, which is exactly what John had counted on when coming up with his scheme.

_**In the vents above the medical lab** _

When the evacuation recordings came on in the medical facility below him, Rygel knew that the insane Human had somehow succeeded in setting off the grenades, that the diversion had been set into motion and that it was now his turn to get the job done.

The medical and technical personnel in the chamber below obediently left their posts and filed out of the room as instructed by the recorded announcement.

Rygel rammed the vent from inside the conduit and, after a few attempts, he managed to unseat it from its frame. It went clattering down to the marble floor. But by now the room was well and truly empty so thankfully nobody was there to hear it fall.

Then, just as John had told him to do memorably accompanying his instructions with a colourful Earth movie description that had made the Hynerian sound like a dashing hero, Rygel floated out of the vent and lowered himself into the room “just like Ethan Hunt in Mission Impossible” - John’s mystifying words were imprinted in Rygel’s mind and played over and over in it even now when every fibre of his body was tensing with fear and pumping adrenaline. His aim was to get the hopefully not so impossible mission accomplished as fast as possible and to get out of there in one piece before anybody returned to find him stealing their precious property.

As luck would have it, it only took maybe a few hundred microts of frantic searching for Rygel to come across a refrigeration unit containing several vials. One of which showed, in Sebacean script, John Crichton’s name. Success!

Rygel held the vial in his hand and studied the contents with a grimace of distaste on his face. John had provided a “generous donation” - as he had himself magniloquently referred to it - six cycles earlier when asked to produce usable DNA material for the Princess and here it was, or at least most of it by the looks of things. Body breeding truly was a disgusting affair!

Rygel dropped the vial in the small coolbox-like container John had given him to store it and re-entered the vents to retrace his path back to safety, the transport pod and a well-earned large plate of marjoules that was waiting for him back in Moya’s mess hall with his name written all over it.

_**On Moya** _

_“Mayday, mayday, mayday!”_

John’s slightly agitated voice reached Aeryn and Pilot on Moya. The distress call came from the fast approaching pod and it startled them and energised them into action.

“John? What is the matter? What’s wrong?”Aeryn asked over the comms after placing D’Argo into his large, secured playpen in their quarters and ordering 1812 to keep an eye on him. What now? What had John gotten himself into while shopping for a stupid present? Trust him to bring trouble back from a supposedly innocuous commerce planet! She thought to herself while swiftly making her way to Command.

_“Aeryn, honey, we are being chased by Imperial Guard fighting craft and …er... it’s a long story. Get ready to bring us in and starburst the moment you have us! Please and… sorry!”_

Aeryn grumpily thought that John at least had the good grace of sounding sheepish as well as tense in his follow up communication.

_“Your fahrbot mate is going to get me killed. KILLED! I always knew he would be the end of me!”_

Rygel’s far more panicked, shrill voice really brought home to her just how dire the situation was, no matter how much John tried to play it down by sounding like he was in relative control.

“Pilot, deploy the docking web as soon as the pod is within reach and prepare for starburst!” Aeryn ordered, her eyes glued to the main viewing screen where Moya’s pod was zooming closer and closer towards them at top speed and clearly being pursued by five fast, sleek ships whose weapons were locked and loaded and ready to discharge on it.

“Moya is ready to starburst. Pod will be within docking web’s reach in… 3… 2… 1…Now!” Pilot declared, ensnaring the pod with the web and immediately initiating starburst to safety.

_**Christmas Morning on Moya in John and Aeryn’s quarters** _

Aeryn unwrapped the small package that John - unable to hide his barely contained excitement - had just handed her wishing her the happiest of Crissmasses.

The package contained a vial. A vial that Aeryn now held aloft between her index finger and her thumb trying to work out the significance of it. She studied its contents with increased puzzlement but with determined concentration.

Her forehead slowly scrunched up into a deep frown and her lips thinned into an expression of slight revulsion.

“John, this looks like…like semen to me.” She could not believe her eyes. Surely she must be wrong.

“It is semen. Mine to be precise!” John confirmed with a smile and a nod, hopping from foot to foot with nervy anticipation.

“You gave me semen?” She asked, incredulous “Semen is your Crissmass present to me?” She looked up at her husband, who was standing in front of her with a goofy expression of joy and pride plastered all over his face. Had he lost his mind? Was this some sort of twisted joke? Why was she supposed to be happier with this particular “contribution” of his than with any of the other more than frequent ones that he produced? And what did this disconcerting present have to do with his near death experience on the Royal Planet? These and a lot more questions addled her mind to the point of confused silence.

“Aer, don’t you get it?” John asked “This is my semen! From my donation to Princess Katralla six cycles ago. And now it’s yours… ours.” He stared at her hard, willing her to understand and then express her overwhelming joy at the epic present he had just given her.

“Semen? You are gifting me semen?” She asked once again but then, suddenly, the true meaning of the gift clicked with her and a smile did finally bloom on her lips. Katratzi. The radiation. The consequences of it on John’s physiology and fertility. His constant regret at being unable to give her more children. It all made sense now. He had risked life and limb to change all that and this truly was a Crissmass present that she would never ever forget as long as she lived!

John saw comprehension dawn on her. He saw her knee-weakening smile slowly light up her beloved features and saw that one, irresistible tear of joy spill over out of her right eye and knew that he had well and truly nailed it this Christmas. His eyes sparkling with equal joyfulness, John leaned into her, he rubbed his nose against hers, then enveloped her tight in his arms and whispered in her ear: “And now we can give D a little brother or sister or both if we so choose. Whaddya say? Are you game for it?”.

All Aeryn could do - lost for words and choked up with emotion - was nod her wholehearted agreement against his shoulder.

**The End**


End file.
